In the kitchen, boiled potatoes and bowls of pasta were cooling to be made into salads. Jaymie had intended to try a recipe from one of the vintage cookbooks from the box Becca had brought home, The Lilly Wallace New American Cook Book, from 1943. But looking at it again, it appeared too complicated; she’d have to make not just one but two dressings, homemade French and homemade mayonnaise. Instead, she riffled through her grandmother’s well-worn handwritten recipe book and found Grandma Leighton’s classic potato salad. Much better!
She also couldn’t resist making something quite different, a weird-looking lime jelly mold was chilling in the fridge. Jaymie was fascinated by the recipe’s description of it as “elegant enough for guests, nutritious enough for the children, and sure to be the belle of your buffet ball!” There were always lots of exclamation points after such dubious claims. Shredded cabbage and carrot, along with frozen peas, peered mysteriously through the brilliant green miasma of lime gelatin. If she put wobbly eyes on it, it could pass for an alien life form. Like fruitcake, it was doomed to be an inedible conversation piece, but if it got a few laughs, it would serve its purpose.
The topic of conversation turned to Becca’s new gentleman friend.
“So, Becca, tell us about Kevin,” Valetta said, leaning forward to pet Denver. The cat slunk away into the slanting shadows beneath the holly bushes.
“Not much to tell. I met him at a show.” She was talking about an antiques show, one of the many at which she rented space during the year, to show her wares and cultivate customers. “He’s into vintage electronics. He’s got the most amazing collection of Bakelite radios and old cameras.”
Dee and Valetta exchanged glances. “So, is this husband number three?” Dee said.
Becca threw a handful of grass at her friend while the others chuckled. After husband number two, a charming but feckless “entrepreneur,” ruined her credit and left her almost penniless, then fled back to England, Becca had sworn she would never marry again. That oath was two broken engagements ago.
The conversation turned to Jaymie’s dilemma with Kathy Cooper. Of the women, Valetta knew her best.
“Craig’s partner, Matt Laskan, came into the office while we were talking and said to Craig that he’d seen Kathy, and that she was still talking about the move,” Jaymie said. “He asked Craig if he had told her yet that the move was a no-go, but Craig shushed him. What did that mean? Do you know, Valetta?”
Valetta shook her head. Dee shrugged.
“I do know that after Kathy and Kylie’s dad died, Kathy tried to get her mom to sell the farm and move into town,” Valetta said. “She had a realtor come out and appraise the property, and she even scheduled a guy to come and get rid of the junk. But Mrs. Hofstadter got out her twenty-two and told the appraiser and the junk guy to get off her land.”
“Really?” Jaymie said. “Sounds like Kathy comes by her ornery nature honestly. I don’t know Mrs. Hofstadter well. When we were kids, Kathy always came to our place.”
“Mrs. H. isn’t ornery, she just doesn’t want to move,” Valetta said. “You can’t make someone do that.”
“I remember how Kathy seemed to me when she came over, when you guys were kids,” Becca said. “I felt sorry for her. She always looked like she was afraid to say anything. What made you two friends?” she asked Jaymie.
Jaymie thought about it. “Propinquity?”
Her eyes wide, Dee said, “Wha…? You use the weirdest words sometimes.”
“I read,” Jaymie said with a faked snooty sniff, and the others laughed. “I mean that Kathy was just always there. I don’t even remember how we became friends. But she kind of hung on.”
“Mom always made sure she had second helpings of cake, and I saw her one day squirrel some away in her pocket. I don’t know if it was for later, or what,” Becca said.
“She took stuff home for Kylie, I think,” Jaymie mused. “They were as close as two sisters could be, even though they were so far apart in age.”
“Poor Kylie. I really feel sorry for the little guy, Connor, though,” Valetta said. “He is such a sweetie, but his mom is a mess.”
“I heard about Kylie’s boyfriend dying in Afghanistan,” Jaymie said. “How terrible for her!”
“It was two or three years ago, though,” Dee said. “She should have snapped out of it by now. She has a child to look after.” As a mother herself, the only one of the four women with children, she was inclined to be more judgmental of poor parenting.
“That’s why Kathy is so attached to her nephew, I guess,” Valetta said. “She had to step in when Kylie was taken down by depression. Kylie is getting better now—she’s really trying—but as far as Kathy’s concerned it’s too little too late.”
“I’m beginning to feel bad that I haven’t tried harder to end this stupid ‘feud,’ or whatever it is, between Kathy and I. She sounds like a basically decent human being. In some ways.” Jaymie shook her head, remembering what Dani had said about her anger at her “enemies.” “But she sure can hold on to a grudge.” She collected all of their lemonade glasses. “Well, ladies, if we are going to finish the salads and get some sleep before the big day, we had better get moving.”
“Agreed,” Dee said. “I have to make fried chicken first thing in the morning—in this heat wave! Ugh!”
Many hands make light work, as Grandma Leighton always said. They were done by ten, and the other two women left. Daniel phoned, and Jaymie talked to him for five minutes, then went to bed with a romance novel she was dying to read. She was asleep in five minutes.
Three
WHAT WOULD THE weather be like for the Fourth of July? That had been the hot topic debated in every coffee shop and restaurant in and around Queensville for most of the week leading up to it, despite there being only one way to know for sure. That was to open one’s door on July Fourth and look out.
In Queensville, if it was rainy there would be no picnic in Boardwalk Park, no race with colorful sailboats gliding across the water and worst of all, no fireworks. That would be a dreadful downer; no red, blue, gold and green showers reflected in the silken water of the St. Clair River, enjoyed by watchers in Queensville, on Heartbreak Island and even by Canadians, who would gather along the water’s edge in Friendly Neighbour Park in Johnsonville, Ontario.
But the Glorious Fourth defied gloomy prognostications. A golden red dawn broke the day wide open. Some Queensvillians watched the sky with trepidation and recited the old saying, “Red sun at night, sailor’s delight. Red sun in morning, sailors take warning,” but most just got busy, trusting the blue in the sky to hold true. Birdsong fluted on the morning breeze, and a faint air of excitement thrummed through the village. Work always came before play, though, so Jaymie skipped next door and let herself into the bed-and-breakfast kitchen, beginning a fresh batch of morning glory muffins.
Anna, looking wan, came into the kitchen from the hall to the family’s quarters carrying Tabitha, her little girl. Jaymie chucked the child’s chin, then studied Anna. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but you don’t really look very well,” she said, pulling a chair out for her friend and pushing her to sit down.
Just a month ago, Anna had learned that she was pregnant, a calamity of sorts, given that she and Clive, her Jamaican-born husband, were trying to make a go of the bed-and-breakfast into which she had sunk her entire inheritance. She was not a natural-born innkeeper and not much of a cook, so it seemed an odd business to undertake, from Jaymie’s view, but that had been the Joneses’ choice to make. Trouble was, the smell of almost all food now made Anna sick first thing in the morning, and running a bed-and-breakfast meant a lot of cooking first thing in the morning. Jaymie was happy to help, though it was a major commitment to be there every single morning that there were guests at the Shady Rest. Going to Canada for a few days the week before to visit her grandmother had been touch and go up until the last minute, when they were sure there were no guests booked at the B&B.
“So, how are you feel
ing?” Jaymie asked.
“Not so great. I had this with Tabby. It’s just typical morning sickness. If I can get past the first trimester, it’ll get better, just as my memory is getting worse.”
Jaymie laughed, and made breakfast. Anna held herself together long enough to serve, and then they had a coffee together, decaf for the expectant mom.
“So Clive won’t be here, I suppose,” Jaymie said, dandling Tabby on her lap.
“No, it’s not a holiday in Canada. He’s working today.”
“Do you think you’ll feel up to bringing Tabby to the Fourth celebrations? Don’t worry about dinner; we’ve got lots for everyone.”
Anna brightened. “Really? You know my little girl, she loooves a party. I don’t know if we’ll stay for the fireworks, though. It might be a little late for my little Tabby-cat,” she said, leaning over and brushing back her daughter’s wild hair, a riot of curls. Anna’s fair, freckled complexion and Clive’s dark good looks had blended in Tabitha. Her skin was a beautiful mocha color, and her curly hair was dark with red tints.
“Party!” Tabby said, waving her hands around in the air.
“Yes, party,” Jaymie chuckled, setting Tabby down. The little girl retrieved her fairy wings—she never went anywhere without fairy wings—and flitted around the kitchen. Interested in an outsider’s take, Jaymie brought Anna up to speed on her ongoing trouble with Kathy Cooper as Tabitha sat down in the corner to play tea party—her new favorite game—with her dolls.
Anna said, “I met her one day when I took some papers to Craig Cooper’s office. He’s been organizing the bed-and-breakfast accounts.”
“Kathy works for him.”
“She works for him?” Anna frowned and shook her head. “I didn’t know that. She wasn’t working while I was there. She was in kind of a hurry, just leaving, actually. They seem really tight, as a couple, you know? It’s nice. I saw them kissing,” she said, with a grin. “They didn’t know it, but I could see them through the front window before I came in. When the door chime sounded, they jumped apart! I guess they figured afternoon delight wasn’t very professional looking.”
Jaymie said, “I wish I saw that side of her. If I knew what it was I did to Kathy, I’d correct it. I’m determined to make this better. I can’t believe I let it go all this time.”
“You’ll make it up. No one could stay mad at you, Jaymie,” Anna said.
Jaymie returned home, showered and dressed carefully in shorts and a cute red, white and blue T-shirt, both new. The downside of spending the winter writing a cookbook—and testing recipes—was that her clothes from the previous summer were a little too tight. Descending to the kitchen to pack for the day spent on the riverfront, she found that Becca was ahead of her, a surprise in and of itself, and was collecting things in the kitchen. She stood staring at the pile she had already mounded on the trestle table, but her expression was blank.
“What’s up?” Jaymie asked.
Becca, dressed in white capris and a blue blouse with a red scarf as a belt, twiddled her fingers. “I’ve forgotten something, but I can’t think what.”
Jaymie regarded her sister for a long moment. Becca was the kind who was so organized, she had a list of all her lists, and that was not a joke. For her not only to have forgotten something, but to not have a list to remind her of what she had forgotten, was unheard of. Grabbing a step stool, Jaymie climbed up and reached into the top cupboard for her vintage plaid Thermos bottle. Just because it was July, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t have tea, even if she had to drink it out of a melamine mug.
All of a sudden, though, she turned and stumbled coming down off the step stool as a thought struck her. “Becca! Are you…you really like this guy, Kevin, don’t you?”
Her sister nodded. “I hope you like him, too,” she replied, holding her younger sister’s gaze.
“Do you love him?”
Becca shrugged, but colored a bit. Jaymie smiled. Well, that explained that. Only love could make Rebecca Leighton Burke disorganized. Jaymie didn’t have anything more to say about it; she just began to pack the blanket—vintage, of course—and other necessities: sun block, first aid kit, antacids. A vintage Red Flyer wagon was the mode of carrying it all to the park. Nobody in town lived far enough away to drive.
She wondered, though, as she mechanically packed, why her stuffy and bossy older sister found it so easy to fall in love and make a commitment, while Jaymie was so cautious, so afraid to get hurt. Joel’s defection still bothered her seven months later, even though she wouldn’t take him back if he begged. In fact, she spent more time pondering Joel than thinking of Daniel. Not good.
But maybe it was natural. Seven months wasn’t really that long to mourn a breakup, she supposed, especially since she would have married Joel if he had asked her. And she would have regretted it. Now she couldn’t see him and Heidi, his new girlfriend, together without noticing all the things about him that drove her mad: his constant “corrections” of his better half’s grammar and vivacity, his ego and his tendency to think he was right all the time.
Daniel Collins was cut from different cloth; he was patient and good-natured, smart without being egotistical, kind to animals and small children. He was a goldarned Eagle Scout of perfection. But she didn’t love him. At least not yet.
She and Becca had lunch together and then coordinated with the others by phone to meet in Boardwalk Park to get a premium space from which to watch the sailboat race from Heartbreak Island, around Fawn Island downstream, and back. Jaymie took Hoppy, of course, because the little dog would enjoy the afternoon so much, but she would have to bring him back to the house before nightfall, since fireworks were not his favorite thing.
Once they arrived, they scanned the park but were the first of their group and so got to pick the spot. It was directly opposite the bottom point of heart-shaped Heartbreak Island. Already some of the sail craft were gathered, anchored at the mouth of the marina entrance. There was just enough breeze on the river that they might get in the race, which was fairly short and limited to smaller sail craft. It would be run in the east channel, closer to Johnsonville, Ontario; that channel was shallow enough that freighters could not use it.
While Becca walked down to the dock to wait for the ferry that would be bringing her new beau, Jaymie spread out the blanket on the grassy rise near, but not on, the walkway, and screwed Hoppy’s tether into the ground. As she stood and shaded her eyes, she saw Daniel walking toward her, and her heart did a little skip. Maybe she cared for him more than she thought! Jaymie greeted Daniel with a hug and kiss, but was saved from too serious a greeting by the arrival of Dee and her husband, and Valetta and her extended family.
Valetta Nibley was a self-described spinster who owned her own house—a small cottage in the oldest section of town, near the Emporium—but she was rarely alone. Her widowed brother, Brock, and his two kids, and her sister-in-law, Violet—Valetta and Brock’s brother had died many years before, but both had maintained a strong relationship with his widow—were often with Valetta, leaning on her for support and taking up most of her free time.
That’s how Jaymie thought of it, but Valetta probably saw it differently; it was her life, and they were her family. As the two kids tore off to meet up with friends, Brock unfolded a low card table and set his cooler beneath it. Daniel greeted Hoppy, who loved him ardently in the way only a dog could, then sat down on the blanket beside Jaymie.
“So, where is Becca’s new guy?” he murmured, moving a bit to pull a doggie toy out from under him. He tossed it to Hoppy, who settled down to chew on it.
“Kevin is leaving his car in Johnsonville and coming on the next ferry, so Becca walked down to meet him. Looks like the two o’clock is on its way over now. He’ll go back on the last ferry.”
The ferry between Johnsonville and Queensville stopped at Heartbreak Island on each run, so it took its time, and could not carry cars, just passengers. There were municipal parking lots in both Johnsonville and Quee
nsville for folks to take the ferry back and forth. Jaymie’s attention was pulled away from the ferry, though, by a sight she did not want to see, not today. Kathy Cooper, picnic basket and blanket in hand, stood up on the walkway scanning the crowd. When she saw Jaymie and their eyes met, she gave a tight little smile and headed toward them.
Okay, think positive, Jaymie told herself. Maybe she was going to try to be nice.
But Kathy ignored her and spread her blanket on the walkway, directly in front of Jaymie’s party. It was not only deliberately rude, it was dumb. The walkway was understood to be off limits. Folks had to have an easy way to stroll from one area to another, and the paved walk, by common consent, was left unblocked by chairs or blankets.
Valetta just shrugged. Kathy greeted her pleasantly and smiled at the others while ignoring Jaymie. Daniel appeared startled. She had told him about her and Kathy’s feud, but he likely hadn’t realized the depth of it. She was going to take the high road and ignore Kathy’s provocation. It was a lovely day, and she would not let it be spoiled.
That was the mantra she repeated to herself over and over, even as every little thing the woman did bugged her. Kathy edged her picnic basket closer to Jaymie’s blanket until it was sitting partially on it. She left the park for a few minutes and returned with a lawn chair, which she plunked down directly in front of Jaymie, so her view would be of Kathy’s butt when the race started. She tossed a cookie to a squirrel, “accidentally” throwing most of the crumbs on Jaymie.
Daniel got up to join Brock in throwing a Frisbee to Eva and William, Brock Nibley’s kids, and Jaymie finally leaned over to her friend and muttered, “Valetta, if Kathy doesn’t stop it, I am going to have to say something. Can’t you see what she’s doing?”
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